The Moment Of Truth
by once-fearful-kings
Summary: 'I feel my body breaking the surface of the water, and I breathe a great lungful of air. Relief swells in my chest as cheering erupts in my ears. He has saved me.'


_**the moment of truth**_

* * *

The sleep is not a deep one, although it allows me to survive without breathing for long periods of time; it allows my heart to continue beating and my blood pumping without oxygen; it allows my brain to function as though nothing has changed.

I know where I am. I know what is happening to me, and I know there isn't much time left.

But I cannot see, nor hear anything. I am swimming in utter darkness and enfolded in complete silence. For a while, it was relaxing. Now, though I can remember exactly the very last words I heard, I find no comfort in them. I try to rationalise until my mind hurts, but I still feel as if the black and the quiet are consuming me, pressing in on all sides and holding me in a grip like an iron vice.

I cannot breathe. I want to breathe.

Panic begins to bubble inside of me, like boiling water. It rises through the body, from the very pit of my stomach, and swells in my chest until it hurts, so badly I think my ribcage must surely burst. I can hear the blood pounding in my ears as my heart beats wildly. I need to move, but my limbs will not obey my mind. I feel weightless, as if I am floating through a night sky, my head thrown back and my hair swirling around my face.

Last night – or at least, what I hope was last night – Professor McGonagall had summoned me, along with three others, to her office. She had explained quite calmly that we would be put into a magical sleep, and placed within the depths of the lake for one of the four champions to find. We were to be the very things they would miss most, she told us. Immediately, I had felt the colour rising to my cheeks, and wondered if I would be collected by Victor Krum. After all, he _had_ taken me to the ball …

It made sense.

We had agreed, and that was the last I remember of it.

I know the clock is ticking away, and that my champion's time must almost be up. In my state of panic, I begin to wonder what will happen to me if I'm not found. They wouldn't leave me down here, I know – but what if they're not quick enough, and the spell begins to wear off? What if I drown before they can rescue me?

I am saved from thinking about it further as I feel something brush along my cheeks. Something soft and gentle.

A pair of hands.

My heart surges. After what feels like a lifetime, Victor has finally found me. I'm sure I almost smile as his fingers caress my skin and trail along the sides of my face, brushing my hair away.

As suddenly as they had appeared, they vanish, leaving me alone once again in this impenetrable darkness. I wish I could reach out and find them again, search for those soft hands and bring them back to me. A hollow sense of loneliness and desperation takes residence in my stomach.

But then the weight around my ankle disappears, the length of rope that had tied me to the bed of the lake – gone. The feeling that follows is one of jubilance and relief, the likes of which I have only experienced a small amount of times in my short life. I am floating upwards now, the water gliding softly against my skin, suddenly pleasant once more. More pleasant still is the hand – surprisingly warm – that takes mine and steers me upwards. I feel the muscles in his arm working hard as he propels us towards the surface, feel his legs disturbing the water beneath us, and feel my heart ascending faster than my body is able to …

My eyes fly open as my head breaks through the surface of the water. I feel it lapping around nape of my neck, and I rapidly go from feeling pleasurably warm to bitterly cold. The light that assaults my eyes is so bright after so long in the dark that I have to squint against it. I move my legs to keep myself afloat, and take a great lungful of air, grateful at last to be able to breathe again.

As my eyes adjust to the light, I look around me, and see a vast expanse of grey water, bordered by towering mountains capped with dustings of snow. And posted in the middle, not far from where I float, are the stands where every student from Hogwarts – along with the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang – now stand. Some are silent, apparently not appeased with the way events have unfolded; the others are clapping and cheering while waving great, colourful banners over their heads. The hand does not leave mine.

I smile, glad to be awake at long last, and turn to face my champion. But my eyes do not meet those of Victor Krum's.

They meet the bottle-green eyes of Harry Potter.

* * *

**A/N: **I first wrote 'The Moment Of Truth' a while ago, and since then, I feel my writing style has changed. Re-reading this, I felt that re-writing it would be fun - so that's what I did, and I was right! I'm really quite proud of this little one-shot, so I hope you enjoy reading this again - and, equally, to new readers, that you enjoy it the first time around! ):


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